


Assorted Instances of Justin Oluransi’s Regularly Scheduled Impulsivity

by lardosundercut (staccato_ramble)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Feel-good, Gen, Recreational Drug Use, minor fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 11:05:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14163468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staccato_ramble/pseuds/lardosundercut
Summary: Lardo has a theory: once a year, Ransom's spreadsheet loving, coral reef instinct hits its max. This causes him to go out and do something impulsive. Upon reflection, Ransom is horrified to discover that she's not wrong.Written for Ransom Week 2018.





	Assorted Instances of Justin Oluransi’s Regularly Scheduled Impulsivity

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day Four of Ransom Week. Prompt: **cacoethes** \- “an urge to do something inadvisable”

“I have a theory about you,” Lardo said slowly.

Ransom rolled his eyes fondly, reaching out to take the pipe out of her hand. They were up in the reading room, taking a much-needed study break to smoke and pretend that graduation wasn’t just two weeks away. Lardo had stretched herself out like a cat in the sun, her legs across his and one arm cushioning her own head.

She didn’t seem bothered by the eye-rolling or the joint snatch. No, Lardo watched him with warm and affectionate eyes as Ransom relit the bowl and inhaled. To be honest, he didn’t smoke nearly as much as some of the other guys on the team and it was still a heady experience. Lardo kept watching and, when Ransom finally exhaled, she continued.

“Every now and then,” she explained slowly, “Your spreadsheet instinct hits its max, bro. That’s why once a calendar year you do something that’s fucking nuts. No shade intended, of course.”

“None taken,” Ransom replied easily.

Then, when his brain caught up with what Lards just said, he added, “And I so don’t go nuts on a schedule.”

“Brooo,” Lardo said in a tone that demanded introspection, “Know thyself.”

Then, she took the joint back from Ransom. He slid his eyes shut, letting the late afternoon sun wash over him as he thought about it. After all, even the freshies he tutors for Bio 120 could tell you that a proper theory required scrutiny.

x

The summer after his freshman year, Ransom was pretty bored. His older sister was on a summer study abroad and his baby sister acquired a girlfriend sometime while Ransom was at Samwell, so they were both gone. His parents were thrilled to have him back, but that didn’t mean they could quit their jobs for the summer just to hang out with him. Hell, even the majority of his high school friends were busy either with jobs back home or decided to stay at their respective college campuses for the break.

A month in and Ransom has already perfected his summer workout routine, read a half-dozen books, and debated whether or not the rest of the team would hate him if he brought a dog back to the Haus next year. (Those sad animal shelter commercials get to him, okay?) He was bemoaning this fact to Holster via text message. Holster, the tru-est bro, returned the favor by waxing rhapsodic about how much fun they’d be having if they could only be together. And, suddenly, things slid into place in Ransom’s mind.

Grabbing his laptop, he did about five minutes of solid googling and another ten of throwing stuff together before calling Holster.

“Bro, did you realize you’re only like thirty minutes away from Niagra Falls?” Ransom said, putting the call onto speaker as he sent out a quick series of texts to his family. “And that you can get a Holiday Inn room for less than eighty bucks?”

“Uh, yeah?” Holster said, then underwhelmingly, “And what?”

Ransom scrolled through his spotify quickly, selecting the playlist he typically reserved for roadies. Checking his mirrors, he realized this was one on those rare moments that he and Holster had not immediately been on the same page since they met last year. As he tapped the address into his GPS, he explained, “I’m driving to the Falls. You’re going to meet me and we’re going to have a ‘swawesome weekend. I’ll be there in, like, two hours.”

“Oh,” Holster replied, “Fuckin’ sweet.”

And thus, a tradition was born.

x

Despite the stress levels that meant he’d probably go grey by thirty, he’d managed to get through the MCATs with decent scores.

Well. More than decent really. He wasn’t boasting the elusive 528 or even in the 520 range, he’d still past the bell curve. Scores that meant he’d get into pretty much any of the med schools on his list to complete preliminary apps for. Which meant now was the time to start working on his personal statements and deciding if his roadie suit was good enough for interviews and talking to Hall and Murray about how he was supposed to work interviews into the schedule while he’s co-captain. Plus, there’s figuring out if the list of schools he put down as potentials for preliminary applications are even good fits anymore. He wanted to stay on the east coast because it’s where so many of his friends are. But a lot of east coast schools are super competitive and he isn’t sure what he wants to specialize in yet and, ergo, he isn’t sure if the program he wants to join is even on the coast.

It’s a lot and, to be honest, Ransom’s brain went a little numb whenever he thought about it. Sure, he’s gone into coral reef mode a ton of times and someone has had to lure him out from under a library table with food. But even with that, Samwell has been fun. Med school is real and, from all the message boards he’s scoured, it’s less fun and more coral reef mode 24/7.

“I don’t want to do it,” Ransom grumbled as he began to pack his stuff up for the semester.

Then don’t, a voice in the back of his head replied.

Ransom paused, a bundle of underwear still clutched to his chest. MCAT scores were good for, like, three years. Everyone was going to be either in Boston or Samwell or Providence in the next three years. Holster has pretty much talked non-stop about how much bank he was going to make in consulting since he declared Econ partway through their sophomore year. It could be easy and fun for another two years - three if he really pushed it.

He doesn’t dare to tell a soul about his decision to defer - not when he’s only just got his scores back. Still, as Ransom turned back to his packing, it was with a delighted zeal because he was so not getting into med school next year.

x

“Don’t freak out,” Ransom warned, tugging the hem of his shirt up halfway so his navel his visible.

On the bed (technically Holster’s, but it was a bitch for them both to get up to the top bunk), Nursey snorted and set down the book he was reading. Things between them aren’t really defined - not yet at least - and that made all of this seem a little crazy, in retrospect. Still, Ransom figured it would be best for Nursey to find out now than during a semi-drunk hook up after the keagster. Turning around to face the wall, Ransom pulled off his shirt and stood, half-dressed in his bedroom.

Nursey made a soft sound of appreciation, followed by, “Not saying you’re not gorgeous, but I don’t see the point in freaking out about something I’ve already seen up close and personal.”

“Dude, you were so not chill about the same sight a few nights ago,” Ransom chirped back.

Still, warmth spread through him at being called gorgeous (a word not usually reserved for big, bad D-men) and he turned around. It didn’t take long for Nursey to spot it. He jerked up in order to get a closer look, hand flying to reach out for Ransom’s chest. The tattoo wasn’t huge or anything - just the two simple, crossed hockey sticks that made up the Samwell Hockey logo. Except, instead of a puck in the middle, there was a single, neatly printed number: 28.

It had seemed like a really good idea when he and Lardo had all gone in to get not-quite-matching tattoos. Both of them based there’s off the Samwell logo, though Lardo had sketched up an appropriately artsy-fartsy version for her own tattoo. Ransom decided that his own minor tweak would suffice. And Holster, never to be left out of a senior outing, declined to get his own tattoo but held both their hands while they got inked, muttering about “b'tzelem Elohim”.

It hasn’t even been a full week that Ransom has had the tattoo, but the anticipation of waiting to show Nursey had already gotten to be too much. He delicately evicted Holster from the attic for the express purpose of showing Nursey the tattoo and now, standing with his shirt off and the other man’s hand hovering over his pec, Ransom began to wonder if he should have asked first. This was his first tattoo and, to be honest, he hadn’t thought to consider the etiquette beforehand.

“It’s 'swawesome,” Nursey finally said. “Do you want me to get a matching one? But, like, with your number?”

Ransom hadn’t considered that being a possibility. Though, the idea of having a matching tattoo with Nursey - something that would undeniably link them forever - made the warm feeling rush over him again. He leaned in, pressing a light kiss to Nursey’s temple. It’s a benefit of not-officially-dating-but-not-seeing-other-people with someone who’s the same height as him: minimal neck craning or back bending required for optimal smooches. Trying not to sound too sappy, Ransom replied, “I want you to do whatever you want, dude. Just let me come along for the ride.”

Nursey smiled at that, face flushing as he finally pressed his hands against Ransom’s chest, carefully avoiding the fresh tattoo. He kissed Ransom this time, aiming for the mouth and delivering something much hotter and deeper.

“Tattoo talk later,” he said into Ransom’s neck, “Kissing now?”

Ransom wasn’t going to argue with that.

x

“Shit,” Ransom said, sitting up quickly enough to jostle Lardo’s feet. “You’re right. Even my impulsivity has a pattern to it. Who does that?”

On his side, Lardo just readjusted her feet and blew a little smoke into his face. She smiled and patted his hand comfortingly and passed back the pipe. She’d never say it when they were both lazy and content from the weed, but she got an enormous amount of satisfaction from being right.


End file.
